The Demons Within
by Kyra Renee
Summary: The Warden Commander has agreed to aid the Inquisition in whatever way she can. But her unexpected arrival stirs up more trouble than intended when paths cross with old lovers and companions alike. Perhaps she would have fared better staying back at Vigil's Keep instead.
1. Chapter 1

_Skyhold_.

The fortress beckoned in the distance; offering refuge and a reprieve from the blistering cold. The mage rounded her shoulders against another violent gust of wind and began her descent down the mountain.

Melted snow numbed her toes as it seeped through her heavy wool socks and she was eager to rid herself of her frozen robes and warm herself by a fire. Perhaps she could even coax a warm meal from her host, although she was hardly in a position to make demands.

Her fingers curled around her staff, using it more as a walking stick than anything else and she pulled herself through the snow and up to the gate. The heavy chains clanked and the gears groaned as the doors were opened and a handful of guards approached. "State your business," the man in front demanded gruffly, his hand resting against the hilt of his sword in a subtle threat and she arched an eyebrow.

"My business is my own," she responded coolly. The guard took a step back, glancing once over his shoulder as he deliberated his own forceful response.

"Her business is with me," the voice sent a shiver down the mage's spine and she lifted her head just a fraction as the hooded figure approached. The Inquisition guard fell back to make a path and every heartbeat fell into perfect rhythm with each deliberate sashay of her hips. The hooded figure came to a stop, one hand lifting to rest on her left hip in obvious exasperation. "You're late."

There was no denying the playful smirk that appeared along the edges of the woman's mouth and the mage offered a chuckle, shifting her staff from one hand to the other. "Some things never change, my dear friend," she greeted as she stepped forward and past the guard. His lips were pressed into a thin line, but he said nothing more as he signaled for the gate to be closed behind them.

"It appears not," her tone was solemn as they moved through the courtyard.

"I heard about Haven," the mage said softly. Chancing a glance at the woman beside her, she took note of the shadow of expression that crossed her face. "You did all you could."

"And it was still not enough," came the whispered reply as they reached the top of the stairs. In an instant, her spine straightened as she marched them towards another flight of stairs that lead into the main hall. Silently now, the mage followed, glancing around at the strange mixture of refugees, soldiers and Orlesian nobility. So, the rumors had been true.

A gust of warm air greeted them upon entering and the mage considered shedding her heavy cloak before proceeding any further, but her companion was not slowing and neither could she. There was no time for pleasantries or to make herself comfortable. There were far more important things to do and business that could not wait.

She wiggled her toes inside of her damp socks and frowned as the other woman pushed through a door and the mage struggled to keep up. "I am not as young as I used to be," she huffed, but her attempt at light humor fell upon deaf ears as they shouldered through a larger door.

The other occupants of the room looked up from around the large table they surrounded, eyeing their unexpected visitor cautiously. The hushed conversation tapered off and the mage took the opportunity to rest her staff against the wall and shrug out of her heavy cloak. She shook the snow from her hood and draped it over a chair that rested against the wall. Smoothing her hands down the front of her shabby leather travel armor, she looked up and cleared her throat.

"Warden Commander, I presume?" A woman with cropped black hair peered across the large table with narrowed eyes and the mage nodded once, bowing her head in greeting.

"You would be correct. You must be Seeker Pentaghast. Leliana has mentioned you in passing," she said with a casual shrug of her shoulders. Her eyes moved to another unfamiliar face and the woman bowed her head.

"Lady Josephine Montilyet," Leliana announced and the Warden bowed again before her eyes shifted once more.

He was looking elsewhere; suddenly engrossed with a particular spot on the map they had been scouring over, his finger rubbing furiously against the thick parchment. His forehead was wrinkled in a desperate attempt to avoid eye contact and she felt the breath leave her in one soft hiss. He was older now and far more seasoned, but she would have recognized the sharp angle of his jaw and the broad expanse of his shoulders anywhere. "Cullen..."

He looked up at the sound of his name and blinked. His mouth moved, but no words came forth and he balled his hand into a fist, letting it rest against the table instead. "Oh, h-hello," he finally breathed. Josephine was looking between them in bewilderment, attempting to understand the discomfort and strange tension that suddenly filled the large room.

"I take it you two know one another?" She asked finally, arching a delicate eyebrow as she picked up her pen and tapped the tip against her notepaper.

Cullen sputtered, shaking his head before nodding and trying to compose himself. "Ferelden. Circle," he said shortly and the Warden nodded in agreement. Cassandra folded her arms across her chest and Leliana moved to stand beside the Warden Commander, resting her hip against the table. He offered no further explanation and for the moment, none was needed. The truth, she supposed, would likely come out in time as it always seemed to do ─ but not here, and not now.

"The Inquisitor is not here," Leliana stated simply. "She should be returning soon. However, we do not need to wait for her to fill you in. I have scouts stationed across Thedas and while the Inquisition is growing stronger by the day, things are getting worse all around us. The Wardens..." She trailed off and the Warden took a slow breath.

"I have informants of my own, Leliana. I know. Nothing makes sense," she rubbed at her forehead, exhaling through her nose. "I knew we were involved somehow. Too many pockets of Wardens went dark all at once. I should have been more diligent in following up, but with Amaranthine..."

"Regret does not help us now," Cassandra said shortly. "We can speak with the Inquisitor when she returns. Perhaps she has found more to go on during her travels. Until then, we should continue to gather as much information as we can from our scouts."

That seemed to be the abrupt conclusion of the meeting and Josephine scribbled something onto her paper before looking up at the Warden Commander. "I have made arrangements for your accommodations. Whenever you are ready, I will gladly show you to your room and give you the grand tour," she smiled warmly and the Warden nodded, watching as Cullen swept from the room without a backward glance.

"A warning would have been nice," she shot to Leliana before retrieving her staff and cloak from against the wall. "I am ready, Lady Montilyet. Would it be too much trouble to also request a warm bath? I fear that I can no longer feel my toes."


	2. Chapter 2

Elena was relieved when Josephine's tour ended and she hastily ducked into her chambers. They were modest but comfortable and she wasted no time shedding her clothes and sinking into the steaming bath that had been brought to her upon request. The life and feeling sprang back into her tired limbs and she closed her eyes, savoring the moment of peace.

Soon, the Inquisitor would return and Elena would be tossed head first into the fray of the Inquisition. She had agreed to offer them whatever aid she could, including her limited knowledge of the Grey Wardens. There were few times she had ever felt so useless and now was most certainly one of them. What could she provide them that they did not already have ─ aside from a scapegoat and a direction in which to point the blame? The Inquisition seemed a capable and formidable force and with Leliana in their back pocket, their reach extended far more than what should have been possible.

When the water grew cold, Elena forced herself from the tub and into a waiting robe folded neatly at the end of her bed. Her bare feet padded silently across the ornate rug as she found the mirror propped against the wall and worked her fingers through untangling her wavy locks.

Elena couldn't recall the last time she had truly _looked_ at herself in a mirror. She had been reduced to offering herself little more than a passing glance and upon closer inspection she could easily see why. She had become a shell of the woman she had been and she had come a long way from the round faced and rosy cheek youth she had been in the Circle. Her cheek bones were sharp and defined and her eyes were sunken and hollow. The soft hues of red and pink were washed clean from her face, replaced now with a sickly pallor that gave her the appearance of being little more than a single breath away from death. She could blame the Taint for corrupting her and draining her with each passing day, but it was more than that. Her will to fight was gone and were she to hear the Calling she could not promise that she wouldn't follow.

The gentle rapping on the door startled her and she jumped, reaching instinctively for the staff that sat on the other side of the room. She frowned and exhaled to steady herself before drawing her robe tightly around her slender frame and moving to open it just enough to peer into the corridor.

She was met with a heavy honey colored stare and she felt her heart stutter as his hand found the door handle and he pushed it open further without invitation. He was bold and it sent the butterflies in her stomach into a wild frenzy. "I came to let you know that the Inquisitor has returned," his words were soft in contrast to the rest of his demeanor and she nodded mutely.

"You could have sent a servant," Elena tried to keep her voice above a whisper but she failed.

"I could have," he agreed with a nod of his head. His hand fell away from the door and Elena took a step back, letting her eyes drink him in. She had promised herself that she would forget him and she had nearly done just that. During the Blight she had scarcely thought of the Templar from the Circle with his wandering eye and curly blond hair. But as of late, she had thought of little else. She wondered where he had gone and whether he had survived the madness that had consumed Thedas. She wondered whether he had found another woman to dote upon and admire from afar. There were no boundaries now and no Circle or Templar order to tell them that what they felt was _wrong._

"It is...good to see you," he said finally, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. She had half a mind to tell him to leave and that she was not decent enough for pleasantries and idle conversation. But Elena feared that if he were to step back through that door she may never get a moment with him again. Privacy seemed hard to come by at Skyhold, especially for those in a position of authority.

"And you. You look well," she responded, toying with the end of her satin belt. "Have you been with the Inquisition long?"

"Since the beginning," he sounded less than enthused and Elena glanced up. The ends of her hair had begun to soak through her robe and she tried to shrug the damp fabric away.

"Yes, well...congratulations, I suppose. You are no doubt a wonderful commander for their growing forces," she felt uncomfortable and the words tasted strange on her tongue.

He nodded in thanks and brought a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. "I hadn't known you would be joining us in our endeavors," he said, glancing up and over as he moved past her and further into the small room, suddenly interested in inspecting the tapestries that hung from the window. He threaded the crimson fabric between his fingers and she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet.

"Neither had I. Leliana wrote to me and requested my counsel. She's a very old friend and I could not refuse her, so here I am. My duties in Amaranthine were not nearly as important as the Breach and besides, I was able to secure a second in command," she clasped her fidgeting hands in front of her and looked towards the ceiling. _Maker, this is uncomfortable._

"Amaranthine would have been less dangerous," he murmured and she blinked. A slow smile tugged at the corner of her lips and she released a small chuckle.

"Cullen, I faced an Archdemon to end a Blight. A few rogue Templars and Mages do not frighten me."

"What about an old Tevinter magister hellbent on destroying the world?" There was a sudden sharpness to his tone and her smile faltered as he turned his head to look at her. He wore a pained expression and her heart ached for him, but she stood her ground.

"You needn't worry about me, Commander. I am quite capable of looking after myself," Elena informed him just as sharply. His concern should have been touching and it was, but she was not as fragile and helpless as she had been all those years ago in the tower. She was a hardened mage and she had been witness to more horrors than she would ever care to admit aloud.

Cullen opened his mouth but closed it soon after and nodded once, letting the tapestry fall free from his hand. Elena stepped back towards the door as he closed the distance between them and her breath caught in her throat as he extended a hand towards her. He seemed to think better of his decision and let his hand fall short. "I lost you once. I will not lose you again," his words were barely above a whisper and she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

In a single heartbeat he was already moving around her and towards the door, pulling it open and stepping into the corridor. "The Inquisitor will meet you in the War Room when you've dressed," with that he was gone and Elena was left staring at the spot where he had been as his words echoed in her head and reverberated somewhere deep in her chest.

 _I lost you once. I will not lose you again._ "Cullen..."


	3. Chapter 3

The Inquisitor was a formidable woman with her jet black hair and piercing lilac gaze. She had the build of a warrior with broad shoulders and had it not been for the delicate curve of her face or the softness of her voice, she would have easily been the most intimidating figure in the room.

She wore a pinched expression as she listened to the words spill from the lips of her advisors; her rounded shoulders suggested that she wanted nothing more than to sit down for a moment and rest. But there was to be no rest until the Breach was sealed for good and Corypheus defeated once and for all.

Elena eased herself into the War Room quietly; slipping through the door to stand just at Leliana's elbow as her friend traced a wide circle with her index finger. Denerim sat in the middle and the Warden drew in a breath. It had been some time since she had ventured to Denerim, although this time she had good reason to stay far from the city. It was foolish to assume that Leliana meant to send any of them to Denerim for any reason, especially not to─

"Appeal to the king," her words were level and all eyes turned to her but she did not flinch. The Inquisitor rubbed at her chin in deliberation as Cassandra snorted.

"What would appealing to the king do? He cannot help us," the Seeker said, throwing a hand up in exasperation.

"See if he can lend us his armies. He does not need them," she made it sound so simple and she folded her arms across her chest. "With Ferelden on our side, we have the numbers and the influence to put the pressure on Orlais."

"And we have good reason for them to turn us away," Josephine added with a nod of her head.

"They would be fools to turn the Inquisition away. The Empress would lose what little support she still has," Leliana responded with a smug smirk.

The room fell silent for a moment as they weighed their options, staring at the walls and willing the answers to appear out of thin air to save them all the trouble. These were the moments she did not miss ─ making the tough calls. She had made more than enough of them to last her an entire lifetime and she picked at a string on the beige colored finery Josephine had graciously provided for her. The breeches were a tad more form fitting than she would have liked and the sleeves were a good two inches too long. She paled in comparison to the lethal beauty across the table with her pale pink lips and sun kissed skin. The Inquisitor was something to admire and she wondered if others often thought the same.

"Let's say we do go to speak with the king. What makes you think he would agree to grant us an audience?" The Inquisitor asked, lowering her hand from her face to watch Leliana carefully.

The spymaster moved aside to push Elena forward, her grip tight around her upper arm. "This is where our Warden Commander comes into play." Elena felt her face grow hot with embarrassment and anger. She was being used like a damn pawn and she yanked her arm free from Leliana's grasp.

"What makes you think I would even agree to that?" She snapped.

"Because you owe me a favor," the tone of Leliana's voice left little room for argument and Elena narrowed her eyes at her old friend, hoping to convey the betrayal she felt with a single look. But the woman looked past her as the Inquisitor arched an eyebrow and shifted her weight from one tired foot to the other.

"We leave in the morning," was all she said before dismissing herself. There would be no formal introduction and Elena watched Cassandra and Josephine follow soon after, leaving Leliana, Cullen and herself alone in the monstrous room.

"You cannot make me do this," Elena's voice was softer now and pleading as she rounded on Leliana. "You cannot make me go there, Leliana. I can't guarantee that this will work. I can't─"

"You will be fine," Leliana assured her, trying to disguise the annoyance in her voice as she scoured over the map one more time. "You underestimate the power you still hold. Even after all of these years, you are still the Hero of Ferelden and he is still your friend," she looked up and Elena swallowed hard.

"I'm going too," Cullen spoke suddenly and both women turned to face him, each wearing their own expression of pure bewilderment.

"But what about─" Leliana began, but he shook his head and silenced her.

"If the king will lend us his troops, I will need to oversee them on the return to Skyhold. Cassandra can take care of my duties here in the meantime. She knows what she's doing."

"Cullen, you don't have to," panic welled within her and he shook his head once more, leaving her no further room to argue or convince him otherwise.

"I _want_ to," he insisted. "I will see you in the morning. Good evening," he bowed his head and swept past them.

"I hope the Maker punishes you for this," Elena grumbled to Leliana before turning on her heel and leaving the room behind Cullen. He was already gone by the time she reached the main hall. No doubt he had already locked himself away in his tower for the evening. She wanted to seek him out and demand that he stay behind; going to Denerim would cause them nothing but trouble. She knew what waited for her there and she knew that having him along would only complicate things further. This was Inquisition business, she reminded herself as she trudged back to her own chambers, and she could not let her personal affairs interfere. But, _Maker_ …this was almost too much.


	4. Chapter 4

The journey to Denerim had been quiet and uneventful; punctuated by a few rolling thunder storms and the promise of more to come. A warning flash of lightning illuminated the sky as the party rode through the city gates beneath the waving banner of the Inquisition. Their polished armor and war horses attracted attention from the locals and Elena squirmed in her saddle as they passed through the market and wound their way towards the castle.

Her heart was lodged somewhere in her throat and every breath threatened to suffocate her on the spot. Cullen rode alongside her with his posture rigid and his gloved hands gripping the reins with all of his might. She imagined his knuckles were a ghostly white beneath the leather and she looked down at her own hands.

There was no altercation at the castle gate, a sure sign that word had reached Denerim of their visit, and she eyed the soldiers as they stood armed at attention, watching the Inquisition pass through on orders from their King. Some looked relieved beneath their helmets, while others followed them with wary eyes, unsure of what their arrival would bring.

Elena was pushed to the front as the others fell back and she frowned deeply as she slowed her mount to a stop in the courtyard and slid to the ground. Her riding boots landed squarely on the weather worn stone and she straightened her spine as a figure approached. "I wondered when I would see you again," the voice washed over her like a gentle summer rain and she felt her muscles relax.

His arms encircled her and she relaxed into his embrace. The soft fabric of his shirt brushed against her cheek and she inhaled the musky scent that rolled off of him. "Hello again, Teagan," Elena breathed as she drew away from him. He held her at arm's length and his warm smile helped ease some of the panic welling up inside of her.

"What brings you back to Denerim, Warden-Commander? You look well," he finally released her and took a step back. Elena shrugged and glanced over her shoulder.

"Inquisition business," she said with a slow exhale and she watched his lip curl. "Leliana seems to think my presence alone can help persuade the good king to lend us his forces."

Teagan looked past her as her comrades stood in the courtyard, waiting for their invitation to join and he gave a curt nod. "I see. Well, the king has a prior engagement this evening but he will be sure to meet with you as soon as he returns. In the meantime, why don't you all come inside and we can get you settled."

Elena nodded in thanks and gestured for her companions to follow up the stairs and into the castle. There was no one to greet them, save for a handful of servants that scattered like frightened pigeons as they moved through the corridors. Iron Bull grumbled under his breath, bringing forth a chuckle from the group at his expense.

Teagan was silent now as he moved ahead of them, his eyes wandering over his shoulder on occasion. Elena wanted to press him for information and pepper him with questions but she kept her mouth clamped tightly shut. She was well aware of the Templar that walked alongside her at a brisk pace with his face screwed up in concentration as he scanned the wide corridors. He was uncomfortable — they all were. It was painfully palpable and she swallowed down the lump in her throat.

Her room was familiar and she wrung her hands together as Teagan moved into the center of the large space, gesturing to the new tapestries as if that would be enough to give the illusion of a different room entirely. Elena stared at the bed. The pillows were the same and she could already feel the mattress sinking beneath her weight and suspending her on a bed of soft feathers. She licked at her lips nervously as moved further inside to stand near the window, dragging her fingertips along the sturdy glass panes.

"When did you get mixed up with the Inquisition?" He sat in the plush arm chair near the empty fireplace and Elena flicked her gaze up and over to him.

"Not that long ago. Leliana wrote to me to inform me that somehow the Grey Wardens are involved in this mess. Even though the madness has not yet touched us, I suspect that it's only a matter of time before it does. I could not stand idly by while my people fall. Besides, this Breach threatens us all. So I traveled to Skyhold to offer them my services and here I am, playing the role of pawn to win over the favor of the king," she curled her fingers into a fist against the window.

"Leliana seems to think that my presence alone will be enough to sway him. But she doesn't understand that times have changed. We aren't...there isn't…" Elena trailed off, unsure of how to continue her thought.

Teagan shifted in the chair to lean forward, placing both feet squarely on the floor as he rested his elbows against his thighs to steeple his fingers and press them against his lips. "Is that what you think?" She could hear the genuine curiosity in his voice and she nodded slowly, letting her forehead fall forward to rest beside her hand against the cool glass.

"It's what I know, Teagan. I wouldn't be surprised if he sent me away and banished me from setting foot in Denerim ever again."

"You underestimate him, Elena. I have never known any other man that would hold on so desperately to a ghost as he has done. He would throw himself into the Breach if you were to convince him that it would keep you safe," Teagan told her flatly and she felt her heart throb violently. Something inside of her was breaking and she wanted to shatter the glass to illustrate just how she felt in that moment. But she kept her hand curled into a tight fist, her fingernails biting into the calloused skin of her palm.

"But he's married to Anora!" She sputtered.

"Anora be damned, Elena! He loves _you_ ," Teagan shook his head and got to his feet. "That marriage was purely political. You should see the way they look at one another. I cannot say that I support your decision to aid the Inquisition and I cannot guarantee you will find the allies you're searching for here. But I can say that it will do us all some good to have you back, even if it's just for a short time. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a few matters of my own to attend to before His Lordship returns. I will see you soon," Teagan stepped forward to place a chaste kiss against her cheek before leaving the room.

Silence settled in behind him, broken only by the sob that had wrenched itself free from her chest. She was not strong enough for this. She would rather have faced ten thousand Archdemons than stand there at that window, preparing herself to receive yet another crippling blow. If she survived this, it would be a true miracle.


	5. Chapter 5

The hall was silent as the torches burned low in their holders, casting eerie shadows along the walls. They stretched and crawled along the stone only to disappear beneath chairs or into the tapestries, lurking out of sight. The Inquisition sat around the long table, occasionally glancing at one another only to look away and fold their hands nervously into their laps. No one knew what to say and no one knew quite what to expect.

Elena sat between the Inquisitor and Cullen, biting at the cuticles around her nails as her leg bounced beneath the table and her eyes were fixed upon the door. Every groan of the castle would cause goose bumps to rise along her arms and she would sit forward in her seat, anticipating his grand entrance. She knew not what to expect from this and for several long minutes she tried to focus on steadying her ragged breathing.

She had not been adequately prepared when the door swung open and the members of the Inquisition rose out of respect for the king only a handful of them recognized as their own. His golden eyes swept along the length of the table and he inclined his head in both greeting and acknowledgement, pushing a sigh out from between his teeth as he took his own seat and gestured for them to do the same. "Forgive me for being late," he sounded tired and the purple bruise-like circles beneath his eyes confirmed as much.

Elena sank back into her seat with the rest of them and the Inquisitor cleared her throat. "We appreciate you agreeing to meet with us, Your Majesty. This could have waited until the morning, but−"

"Could it?" He cut her off and the woman blinked, her eyes growing wide as he settled back in his seat and rubbed at his forehead. "From my understanding there's a hole in the sky dropping demons right into our laps. Orlais is on the brink of a civil war, Mages and Templars are at one another's throats, the Temple of Sacred Ashes has been reduced to dust and ruin and you have resurrected the Inquisition of old to restore order. Have I missed anything?"

Stunned silence passed over them once more as the king's cold words settled in and Elena inhaled sharply. "There has been Grey Warden involvement. Though to what extent, we still don't quite know. Regardless, a war is inevitable and the Inquisition needs soldiers. _Good_ soldiers. That's why we're here. We need your men, Your Grace."

He turned his head slowly and his face paled. The hand that had been resting near his cheek fell slowly to grip the arm rest of his chair and he blinked once, twice and a third time to make sure that his tired eyes were not playing cruel tricks on him. But it seemed his ears were the true tricksters. "You say ' _we'_ as if…"

"As if I'm also part of the Inquisition?" Elena finished the question for him and nodded her head. She tried to calm her pounding heart and she was afraid that soon the entire room would echo with the sound, but she pressed on all the same. "I am. I will not let the Grey Wardens fall. There are already too few of us as it stands."

"You should have told me you were running off to join the Inquisition," his accusatory tone made her cheeks flush with embarrassment and anger and she could feel herself losing control. That was all he had to say? _That_ was his only response?

"I was not aware that I had to report to you," Elena snapped. "The last time I checked, my life was still my own."

"You didn't think I would want to know that you were off pledging the Grey Wardens to some cause we know nothing about?" He shot back.

"I don't speak for the Grey Wardens, Alistair! I speak for myself and I am here, asking for your help. And don't act like you care about what the Grey Wardens do, you have more important things to worry your pretty little head about," her face burned and she felt the Inquisitor place her heavy hand on her arm. Elena bristled with anger and she could feel the air thrumming around her. She was going to zap them all to a crisp if she didn't channel her emotions properly and she sat back forcefully in her seat, conceding to defeat once more.

"Warden-Commander," The Inquisitor's tone was harsh and Elena huffed as she gripped the arms of her chair to steady her trembling hands. "Your Grace, clearly emotions are high this evening. We're all exhausted from the day's events and traveling, so perhaps we should meet again in the morning when we've all had a chance to rest and clear our heads. This back and forth will get us nowhere."

Alistair tore his gaze away from Elena to fix it upon the Inquisitor and he nodded reluctantly in agreement. The man rose slowly from his seat, pushing the heavy chair across the floor and stepping around it. The rest of the table rose except for one and as he bowed his head to the Inquisitor and bid her and her companions a good night, his eyes fell upon Elena once more. "You will remember your place, _Warden-Commander_." It was a warning, though it was one she would not bother to heed. This was not the man she remembered nor was it the man she had once loved. This was a man hardened by responsibility and politics; a man that saw himself as superior leader rather than the humble and timid Grey Warden he had once been.

"And you will remember yours," she hissed back, chancing a single glance up at him. His eyes burned into her before he turned sharply on his heel and stormed from the room, leaving the Inquisition to stare on in disbelief in his wake.

Elena could feel the Inquisitor glaring daggers into her skull and she rose from her seat, struggling to maintain her composure as she smoothed down the front of her navy colored blouse and finally lifted her gaze. "I would appreciate you not looking at me like that, Inquisitor. I never wanted to come here to begin with. This is your cause, not mine and I will not suffer through that humiliation a second time. I will see you all in the morning. Have a good night," she brushed past the Inquisitor and shrugged off the gentle touch from Cullen that had fallen upon her arm. Fleeing the city in the dead of night was sounding more and more appealing by the second.


	6. Chapter 6

The palace still bore the scars from the Blight and Elena brushed her fingertips along the solid stone in the courtyard. She could hear the shrill cries of Darkspawn as the screams of the dying were drowned out by the clanking of their blades. Some parts of Ferelden had not yet recovered and she could still feel the Blight creeping up from beneath the flowerbeds. It made her victory feel like much less and her failures feel like that much more.

"You look uncomfortable," the voice was soft and Elena felt her shoulders tense as she steeled herself to turn around.

"I _am_ uncomfortable," her response was cool as she forced herself to turn in a slow circle to face the woman that stood before her: Queen Anora in all of her glory with her slender waist and perfectly pouted lips. She was a beautiful woman, there was no point in denying that. Elena felt a stab of jealousy as Anora lifted a hand to carefully adjust the glistening tiara upon her head; flaunting her position to the rest of Thedas.

"There is no need to be. This is your home as much as it is mine," Anora said with a simple shrug of her shoulders and Elena felt a bitter smile tug at the corners of her lips.

"I think not, my _Queen_ ," Elena curled her fingers in towards her palm and took a step back to angle her body away from Anora. She knew the woman was no threat − at least not _physically_. Anora had all but staked a claim on everything that had once belonged to Elena, King Alistair Theirin included. Although, Ferelden had never quite belonged to the Mage, she had been its protector for quite some time.

"Elena," Anora spoke with authority now and a purpose that caused the hair on the back of her neck to bristle. She knew what was coming and she did not want to have that particular conversation − not ever, and especially not with Anora.

"Don't," she warned, but it was too late and the words were already tumbling from Anora's lips.

"I wanted this no more than you did. But my marriage to Alistair was a political necessity for the good of Ferelden," she lifted her chin just a fraction and Elena could see the unspoken victory in her dark eyes. She wanted to slap the look right from her face and her pulse quickened as her fingers twitched.

"If that is what helps you sleep at night, my Lady. Then by all means, continue to believe that. I believe our business here is concluded. If there's nothing more, I would like to retire for the evening," Elena took a step forward and brushed past her before she could respond.

"There is more," Anora's words were solid and Elena paused, having no desire to turn back around. "I have not told him yet, but I am with child."

The silence that followed was deafening and Elena feared her legs would give way beneath her right there in the courtyard. Her entire body trembled as she swallowed down the urge to electrocute the woman where she stood. _How dare she?_ Elena released a steady exhale and closed her eyes for a brief second, "Congratulations, Anora. I certainly hope you're happy now," she bit her tongue and pressed forward once more, disappearing quickly into the safety of the shadows.

She pressed her hand against her chest, expecting to cover the gaping hole where her heart had been. But her chest was solid and she could still feel the rhythmic beating. So why did it feel like someone had carved it straight from her chest?

She could scarcely breathe as she stumbled through the corridors, dragging her hands along the walls to support her buckling knees. She crashed into a suit of armor and toppled to the floor alongside it, her sobs silenced by the clash and clang of steel against stone. For a moment she lay there in stunned silence, nearly choking on her own tears as they stained her cheeks and splattered against the polished armor.

Alistair would have an heir − a _true_ heir. He would have a child, the very thing she could never have given him. The realization had been painful enough during their heated discussion that evening following the Landsmeet. But this… _this_ was too much. The harsh reality that Anora would be the one to bear his child was crippling and Elena began to untangle herself from the armor as footsteps echoed down the corridor.

Her feet carried her like a bolt of lightning down the corridor and away from the chaos as the servants came upon the suit of armor. Their voices carried overhead and she slowed only long enough to weave between two passing off-duty guards. Elena picked up her pace again once she was free and she shouldered her way through the door to the garden as a clap of thunder sounded overhead. Without missing a beat she reached up towards the sky as a painful cry worked itself free from her chest and lightning fanned out like spider webs from her fingertips to join in with the wrath of the Maker.

The air around her pulsed with energy and her chest heaved as she brought herself back down to calm the storm that raged inside of her and threatened to tear her apart at the seams. Aching and spent, she sunk down onto the smooth cobblestone walkway and folded her arms around her knees, bringing them towards her chest as she willed the rain to wash her away.


	7. Chapter 7

"The King has agreed to aid the Inquisition," Cullen sounded none too pleased as he sat beside her, his meal scarcely touched. He fidgeted in his seat, adjusting the cuffs of his finery and scowling. Rather than question his sour mood, Elena nodded and continued to pick at the pastry she had been given. The servants watched them from the corners of the room, muttering amongst themselves and she lowered her gaze.

Her hair was still damp from her night spent cursing the Maker in the rain and she could feel a chill creeping into her bones. She could combat illness better than she could her own emotions and she wiped her hands clean and sat back.

"I will be riding out with them on the morrow to Skyhold," Cullen continued, speaking quietly as Solas and Varric sat across from them, neither breathing a word. Elena wondered if they were uncomfortable or simply trying to be respectful of their host, but either way she was glad for the silence. The Inquisitor was absent; no doubt working out final arrangements with Alistair. Her heart gave another painful throb, although this one was more bearable than any of the others she had experienced in the last several hours.

"I will go with you," Elena looked up to meet his gaze. "I do not wish to stay here a moment longer than necessary. I have done quite enough," she added, daring him to challenge her. He opened his mouth, thought better of it, and pressed his lips into a thin line.

His response was a single nod, "Very well."

Relief flooded her and she rose slowly. She could feel his eyes and the unspoken questions that burned his tongue. She likely looked worse than a Blighted Ogre in her current state and she shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "Excuse me, gentlemen," she hadn't needed to excuse herself — she could have walked away. But the way they watched her over their bowls of fruit made her squirm and she ducked from the hall.

Did she tell him goodbye? As far as Elena was concerned, there was nothing left to say. He had said more than enough during his outburst. He was not the same man she had loved all those years ago.

Every step she took seemed to lead her away from the fog that had clouded her mind. The truth was that she had always known this day would come. It had been inevitable from the very beginning and Elena had done a damn good job at keeping it at bay. She had clung to the hope that somehow and in some way they could make things _work_. She had loved Alistair and she had given him everything she had. The circumstances surrounding their relationship had been grim and they had been doomed to fail before it even began. They were tainted with the Blight and tasked with the impossible, how could they not have sought out love amidst the death and chaos that surrounded them? But now that it was over, what was left?

Elena held fast to the _idea_ of love and the _idea_ of him. Of course she missed his touch, his voice and the feel of his warm body lying flush against her beneath the stars. But she didn't long for them like she once had. She longed for the ache in her chest to subside — she longed to feel wanted. Seeing him had sparked nothing but a dying rage for what could have been, but what could never be. There had been no urge to hold him, or kiss him, or have him near. He was just another man. A man that had once been her dearest friend and her lover, but a man she had never quite been _in love_ with. There was a glaring difference between the two and she realized that now. It had only taken a violent storm and purging her body of tears to fully understand.

A door to her left swung open and voices spilled into the corridor, causing her to slow. The Inquisitor stepped through, followed closely by Alistair. Their laughter drifted towards the high ceiling and he clapped her on the back, shaking his head. He looked up and stilled when his eyes found Elena. "Ah," The Inquisitor tensed visibly, no doubt expecting another shouting match and she quickly took a step back to distance herself from the pair. "I should go," was all she offered them before hurrying past, though not before shooting Elena a hard warning which the Mage blatantly ignored.

"You're in a better mood," she commented, her tone clipped as she pressed her back against the wall.

He rubbed at the back of his neck and looked down at his feet before lifting his gaze to her again. "Yes, well. When the Inquisition agrees to poke the Venatori with the pointy end of their swords and get them the hell off of my land, it tends to lift my spirits. Of course they'll be using _my_ men to do so, but at least I don't have to command them," he shrugged and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"Elena, about last night. I−"

"Alistair. Don't."

"No, I need to explain. Just hear me out for a moment. I was never supposed to see you again. That was my plan, you know? I knew where you were for the most part and I could avoid you. I don't get out much anyway. Being king and all... So when you came waltzing through that door with the Inquisition I was a little−no, I was _a lot_ surprised. I didn't know how to react and I...I panicked," she could see him now, the Warden Alistair with the fumbling hands and nervous laugh.

"You don't have to apologize," she said simply. "You are my king and I blatantly disrespected you. It was not my place to respond so harshly."

"Elena," the hurt in his eyes nearly caused her to break, but she continued to stand strong. Whatever game he was playing at, she could not let him win. There was nothing left to hold them together but there were many things that would keep them apart.

"I leave for Skyhold tomorrow with the troops. It was...good to see you," she offered him a warm smile and stepped forward to envelope him in a parting embrace. His body was stiff for a moment before his arms encircled her and he buried his face in her hair. He was the only thing holding her together in that moment and she closed her eyes as her cheek pressed against his chest. "You will always know where to find me should you ever need me."

"Promise me that you'll look after yourself," his words were muffled and she nodded. "And don't let the Inquisition—mainly Leliana—push you around. And if you ever need _anything_ , don't hesitate to ask. I was a Warden long before I ever became king."

She drew away then and let her fingertips brush against his cheek. He was still just as handsome as ever and she moved the pad of her thumb over his lips, swallowing hard as they parted in a sigh of content. His golden eyes closed and he relaxed visibly; the lines in his face and around his eyes disappearing and smoothing out. His face was boyish once more and she let her hand slide down to rest against the side of his neck.

"This is my fault," she murmured, her breath hitching in her throat as his eyes opened. He searched her face as his hand rose to rest against hers. "I made the decision to name you king. I didn't even...you didn't have a choice. I thought it would be best for everyone but look at you, Alistair."

"Shh," he cradled her face gently in his hands and she felt a lump rise in her throat. Whatever resolve she had would shatter the moment his lips met hers and she knew that, but she was powerless to stop him. This was what she had hoped for and now she was hesitant. Kissing him would ruin _everything_ and she could feel the heavy fog creeping back into her mind.

"Alistair..."

"For the love of the Maker, Elena. I have missed you," she could feel his warm breath on her face and she released a shaky breath.

"Alistair."

"You have no idea how many times I've considered leaving this damned place to come find you," he was closer now and she could almost taste him. Surely one kiss would do no harm...

She was frozen in her own skin as his lips moved against hers and she melted into his touch, her entire body going numb from the sweet sensation. But there was no burning fire and yearning for more and she faltered as his fingers moved to tangle in her hair.

Panic bubbled up inside of her and she jerked away from him, " _Alistair_!" That got his attention and he blinked in alarm. "I— _We_ can't. This is wrong. You...Anora..." she was stumbling over her own words as she tried to calm her pounding heart.

"Anora? That's what keeps stopping you?" He straightened up and shook his head. "I never wanted to marry Anora. The woman can't stand me and to be honest I can't really stand her either. The way she looks at me, it's like...it's like she's wishing I had died instead of Cailan."

"Alistair, she's with child," the words blurted out and Elena braced herself as the realization washed over him and he began to digest them. His eyes were wide and she took that opportunity to step away from him and back towards the safety of the wall. She flattened her hands against the cold stone and exhaled. He stood in the center of the corridor, his face pale as he blinked at her.

"She...is having a baby? _My_ baby?" He pointed to himself in awe.

"She told me last night and I...you should know. I cannot let you do this," her voice was barely above a whisper and he rubbed at his face, his mouth opening and closing without making a sound.

"Goodbye, Alistair. I wish you the best. With...everything." It was a poor state to leave him in, but she could not linger. Just like that it was over and she felt freer than she had originally thought she would. In fact, she felt relieved of the burden and she gave Anora a curt nod as she passed by her.


	8. Chapter 8

p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"Denerim was two days to the east now and the fire crackled at her feet. She sat in a sea of tents and prodded at the dying embers with a gnarled stick. Her staff was propped up against the log to her right and she glanced at it on occasion to soothe her nerves. Being so exposed and vulnerable brought back more unwanted memories of the Blight and she half expected Sten to trudge through their small circle with a carcass in hand. Sten was gone, she reminded herself. They were all gone now — including Alistair./span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"A shadow passed near to her and her head snapped up as another log settled onto the fire, forcing the embers to jump away in protest. "It's going to die out," he said as he lowered himself onto the ground beside her./span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"She offered him a thin smile of thanks before turning her attention elsewhere. Her skin pricked from the new proximity and she considered a subtle shift away from him. The way the firelight danced across his face held her attention and rendered her momentarily frozen. The shadows raked through his wheat colored hair and darkened the circles beneath his eyes. It brought color to his unusually pale cheeks and she swallowed down the lump in her throat./span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;""You look tired," Elena commented, tapping the end of the stick against the hard ground./span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;""I am. We're all tired," he responded gruffly, interlocking his fingers and staring down at his hands. The way he hung his head suggested a heavier weight upon his shoulders and she mustered up her courage to broach the subject without hesitation./span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;""Cullen, you have been unusually quiet these last few days. Is there something on your mind?" Her voice was low and she cast a quick glance around at their new comrades./span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"He looked up and she could feel him searching her face in the low light and she tried to shrink further into the shadows. But there was nowhere to go and she folded her arms over her chest nervously as if that alone would protect her from his powerful gaze./span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;""It's nothing," his answer was less than convincing and she nodded once. It emwas/em emspan style="font-family: 'Verdana','sans-serif'; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"something /span/embut she would not press him for more. He was not very forthcoming and she was in no position to jeopardize whatever feeble relationship they had./span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;""Of course," she let the conversation drop there and nudged a rock with the end of the stick. It rolled and bumped along the ground before coming to rest just bedside the fire pit./span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;""The Herald...Inquisitor, whatever she is, choose to ally us with the Templars. Good men and women lead astray and yet I don't feel sympathy for them. Their actions were their own and I try to argue otherwise but deep down…I know they were wrong," his tone was troubled and she felt the stick grow heavy in her hand./span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;""You would have preferred her to rally the Mages, then?" Elena questioned./span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;""Of course not! They're one afternoon nap away from becoming abominations," he threw a hand in the air and Elena felt herself smirk and chuckle under her breath. Well, that was certainly one way to put things. Every day had become a war against possession; demons lingered in the Fade, coercing their way into the minds of Mages and consuming them with corruption. "Oh, no. Elena, I didn't mean—"/span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;""I knew what you meant and you're right. Mages are dangerous right now, more so than usual. We're desperate, scared and vulnerable. Templars are the only ones that pose a threat to us. They're the only ones that can keep us under control. But their Order is just as corrupt. So what do we do? Were you still a Templar, what would be your wish?" She turned now to face him, abandoning the stick and focusing her attention on him. He mirrored her by doing the same and he shook his head./span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;""I would never have—"/span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;""But say you did," she pressed, leaning closer still. "Say you followed the orders given to you dutifully. What then? What would you have the Inquisition make of you?"/span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;""I would want them to make an example of me. I would want to be rightly punished for my crimes. But...I would also hope for the chance to atone myself," he looked up and Elena watched the reflection of the firelight in his amber hued irises. The scar above his lip pulled as he smiled and she was glad for the heat of the fire to cover the fresh flush of colors on her cheeks./span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;""So don't you think these Templars deserve the same? Your brothers and sisters? You may denounce the Order, Cullen. But you will always be a Templar just as I will always be a Mage. It is part of who we are. You're quick to pass judgement when that very well could have been you. They were loyal to their Order and that's got to count for something./span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"When I was in the Circle, I wanted free from their bindings. I wanted to escape the Tower and run wild. But now there is no Circle of Magi and no Tower and I would give anything to repeat my lessons until my eyes shriveled up and turned to dust. Good Mages are turning to Blood Magic and killing innocent people. Templars hellbent on revenge are slaughtering civilians in the streets and now there's a emspan style="font-family: 'Verdana','sans-serif';"hole/span/em in the fucking sky," she glanced up and exhaled, shaking her head./span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;""The war is never ending. Even when Corypheus is gone the fighting will continue."/span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;""You would have the Circle restored?" He sounded surprised and she lifted her head./span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"Elena nodded slowly, choosing her words carefully. "With modifications, of course. Certain things would need to change. Mages are not sheep, they're people."/span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;""Some would disagree," he reminded her and she ran her tongue across her lips nervously./span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;""Do you?" The question caught him off guard and she watched his expression change right before he turned his head to look away./span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;""Disagree with you?" He clarified and she nodded. "I did. Once. But now? No, not now. Now I find myself in a position I never thought I would be in."/span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;""And what's that?" Her heart skipped a painful beat in anticipation. But he chose not to answer and the silence that spanned between them was enough to make her want to scream. She wanted to grab him and shake him just to make the words tumble from his lips and into the space between them where she could gather them up and hold them close. She knew what he emspan style="font-family: 'Verdana','sans-serif';"wanted/span/em to say, but it meant nothing until he opened his mouth and said it./span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;""We should get some rest. We have a long journey ahead of us yet," he said finally and Elena felt herself growing hot with frustration./span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;""Of course," her words were clipped and he got to his feet, his joints popping in protest as he held out his hand to help her but she turned the other cheek and picked up her stick again./span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"His outstretched hand lingered on the edge of her peripheral and she bit down on her tongue. "Right. Well, then. Goodnight, Warden-Commander," his sudden formality caused her to turn her head just a fraction./span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;""Cullen, stop calling me that. You don't have—"/span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;""Goodnight, emElena/em. Sleep well," he interrupted her as he withdrew his hand and inclined his head in a bow before turning to make his final rounds./span/p  
p style="background-image: initial; background-position: initial; background-size: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; max-height: 999999px;"span style="font-size: 9pt; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"When he was gone and safely out of earshot and sight, the Mage threw her hands up in exasperation and toppled over sideways onto the ground with a dramatic groan. "Elena Amell, you are a very emvery/em stupid woman."/span/p 


	9. Chapter 9

"He really agreed?" Leliana watched the troops trudge through the mud as her eyebrows shot skyward. Elena stood beside her with arms folded across her chest. Her body ached from the hard ground and days spent in the saddle of a horse. Chills worked their way down her spine from time to time and more than once she had been left winded from a violent fit of coughing. The Healers assured her that it was nothing more than the common cold from her time spent climbing the Frostback Mountains ill-equipped.

"It was the Inquisitor's doing, Leliana. Not mine. I nearly lost us support from the entire Bannorn," she uncrossed her arms and turned to face her old friend. "Thankfully I managed to make amends with my unparalleled charm and good looks," the Mage smirked and dragged a gloved hand through her hair. Her bare fingertips were frostbitten from the unyielding cold and she longed to wrap them around a piping hot mug of cider and thaw her bones near the fire.

"Ah, yes. The very same two things that defeated an Archdemon if I do recall," Leliana offered a dark smirk of her own and turned to climb the stairs to retreat into the main hall. The space was littered with Orlesian nobility and Elena skirted around them. They graciously moved aside in their lavish gowns and silk doublets to make room for the Hero of Ferelden and the Lady Nightingale.

"You recall correctly, my friend. There may have been a few other unorthodox practices along the way, but really I charmed the poor beast to its death," she shrugged as Leliana pushed through the door and stepped into the space occupied by Josephine, pausing to turn and face Elena.

The spymaster opened her mouth to speak but thought better of her retort and pressed her lips together instead. "You must be exhausted from your travels. Go. Get some rest and we will meet again soon," it was a curt dismissal and Elena glanced between the two. Josephine looked up from her paperwork to offer a polite smile and Elena began to move backwards towards the door.

"Ah, yes. Inquisition, business. Later then," she felt foolish as she ducked her head and spun on her heel to move back into the main hall. The chandeliers had been restored and suspended high above her head and she looked up as the candles flickered brilliantly in their holders. Ornate tapestries had been donated and imported from Orlais for the viewing pleasure of the Inquisition guests. They depicted historical acts that Elena knew nothing about, although she was relieved to find that none of them told her own story. Her heroic deeds were not worthy enough for Orlesian standards and she was quite content with that.

She used her staff as a walking stick as she passed through the corridors, working her way back down to her own private chambers. But her feet carried her elsewhere and she found herself hobbling into the tavern and slipping silently into an unoccupied corner.

Iron Bull and his Chargers were entertaining a group of pretty serving girls, three of which sat happily on the Qunari's lap with rosy cheeks and bright smiles.

"Can I get you something, love?" The woman was stooped and her gray hair tied into a tight knot at the back of her head. Her face was wrinkled from too many days spent in the sun and Elena rubbed her hands together.

"Just a cup of warm cider, please," she tried to rub feeling back into her fingers and the woman nodded.

"You would be warmer by the fire, dear. The Qunari may be loud, but he doesn't bite," she said with a small smile before limping away to fetch the woman her drink. Elena swallowed her remark as she chuckled under her breath. Iron Bull was nothing like Sten and his stoic pessimism, but Bull would take a blade for the Inquisitor without a second thought just as her own Qunari companion. Elena could hear it in his voice and see it in the way he spoke to the woman. He regarded her with the utmost respect and it was admirable.

The cider appeared in front of her as if by magic and she caught a glimpse of a liver spotted hand disappearing from the corner of her eye. Without hesitation she peeled the gloves from her hands and wrapped them around the warm mug, letting out an audible sigh of relief. She would have dumped the entire mug over her head if she didn't run the risk of scalding herself from head to toe.

A cold gust of wind caused her to shiver as the door swung open as Varric sauntered inside, brushing snow from his sleeves. Sera bounced along behind him, her wide eyes brimming with excitement as she beckoned Iron Bull to join them. "Sorry, ladies," he boomed out a chuckle at their squeals as he lifted them from his lap and placed them onto the laps of his eager and waiting men. He straightened up and ducked beneath the ceiling beams to follow his comrades to a large table near the other side of the tavern.

"Care to join us, Chuckles?" Varric called out and Solas looked up from the tome he had been reading in quiet solitude.

Much to her surprise, he closed the large volume and tucked it beneath his arm as he stood to join them as well. They all began to trickle in as word spread throughout Skyhold like wildfire, bringing the Inquisitor's circle to one gathering spot with the news that Varric had challenged them all to a few rounds of Wicked Grace. It was good for the soul, he argued as Vivenne chided him but took her seat all the same. Elena found herself grinning as they laughed and joked, passing around pints of ale as the chairs began to fill one by one.

The door opened a final time and the Inquisitor crossed the room. Her very presence demanded that all eyes be on her and Elena shrunk against her seat into the shadows. Perhaps if she stayed still long enough until after their game began, she could escape without being noticed. But her plan was quickly foiled when Cassandra, Josephine and Cullen trailed in to occupy the remaining seats. "I intend to win the pants right off of Curly," Varric announced, casting Cullen a smug look as he settled into his seat. "Since he seems to think he's the best player in all of Thedas."

"I believe I said within the Inquisition. And you're about to find out," Cullen responded, leaning back in his chair and waving a hand through the air. "We're all here. Let's get this started."

"Here! Here!" Blackwall pounded his fist against the table top as the tavern patrons returned to their own drinks and conversations.

She watched the way his shoulders tensed under the friendly banter and the way he would turn his head just a fraction to the right before he made a risky move. The sound of his laughter rose above the others and she wondered how often he let himself relax in the presence of others, or even on his own. He was always so serious and so dedicated. He had always been that way, at least as long as she had known him. He had never strayed from his duties as a Templar and now he had given his life to serving the Inquisition. It was admirable and she found herself wondering how it would feel to actually _be_ the reason for his dedication.

Her face flushed as she sipped at her now cold cider as their game continued. The tavern had long since grown quiet and Cole was now perched on the stairs, overlooking the table and muttering to himself. Every now and then his comments would cause Iron Bull to throw his head back with a chortle and the others would join in to create a chorus of belly aching laughter that drifted up to echo in the high ceiling. Their faces were flushed from too much ale and Josephine had already shocked her companions with a belch that put Iron Bull to shame.

By the end of it all, Varric had left with all but Cullen's pants, which he had fought like hell to hold onto. The dwarf looked smug as he called over his shoulder, "Don't worry, Curly. You can win them back next time!"

The Inquisitor howled with laughter as Blackwall hauled her from her seat to help her back to her chambers. His own rosy cheeks were bright as he chuckled along to her slurred words. _They needed this_ , she had said as she passed Elena's table, they needed the laughs and the headache that would plague them all in the morning.

As the others filtered out, Cullen remained seated, recounting his failed tactics as he put off running through the cold to his tower. Confident that they were now alone − save for the barkeep and the old woman − Elena cleared her throat as she stretched her sore legs and shrugged out of her traveling cloak. It had been cool by the door, but he clearly needed it more than she and she draped it over his shoulders wordlessly.

Her fingertips brushed against his bare shoulders and she tried to suppress the shudder as a jolt of electricity shot through her body. Her skin burned and she let them drag against his skin a moment longer than necessary before pulling her hand away and letting it fall limply at her side. He lifted his head to blink at her and she could smell the ale on his breath as he drew the cloak around him. "Thank you. This is...embarrassing. I thought I had him. He's a slippery little bastard," but Cullen smiled fondly as he cursed the dwarf and his tricks.

"There were a few cheap calls," Elena agreed with a nod as she stifled a yawn.

"You were watching?" Cullen sounded surprised and Elena nodded carefully.

"The whole time," she said as she sunk into the chair beside him. "It was nice to watch you all having so much fun − a reminder that you're all just...ordinary people."

He looked at the table and back to her, reaching silently for her hand and curling his fingers around hers. "None of us _feel_ very ordinary. But you know that," his voice was softer now and she felt that familiar lump in her throat return. Her hand burned with the fire of a thousand suns and she looked down at her feet.

"We should get you to bed before you catch your death. They're putting the fires out and you've been drinking," Elena murmured. "Come on."

There was no resistance from him as she helped him to his feet and the trek to the tower passed on in silence. "Goodnight, Cullen," she paused just outside of the door and he nodded, shivering beneath the cloak in the cold night air.

She turned to leave and his hand shot out to grab her by the arm. It happened faster than she could even blink as he spun her back towards him and his lips crashed against hers. Somewhere in her ribcage there was an explosion and her senses went into a frenzy. Her heart hammered in her chest as he gripped her now by both of her arms to hold her in place. "I have wanted to do that for years," he breathed as he pulled away just enough to brush the tip of his nose against hers.

"It took you long enough," Elena stammered, swallowing hard as she gripped the front of the cloak to steady herself.

"I want you to stay with me tonight."

"Cullen, you're drunk," she reasoned as her eyes widened in horror. _Stay with him_? Maker, how she wanted to! But she was convinced the ale had clouded his mind and his judgement. Sober Cullen would not have made such a bold request. Or would he?

"No. Well, yes. But I know what I'm asking. Andraste's ass, Elena, we could wake up tomorrow with Corypheus at our doorstep. I have spent years watching you from afar and not knowing whether you were dead or alive. I refuse to spend another moment not knowing. If I am to give my life, I will not do so without reason. I will not do it without you."

She could feel her eyes welling with tears as he tightened his grip on her arms and she closed her eyes to push out a slow exhale. "Cullen, do you hear yourself?" She asked, unable to stop the few rebel tears that broke free to race down her cheeks.

"Tell me you don't care about me. Tell me you don't feel the same and I will bid you goodnight and never speak of this again," his voice was solid and she could feel it reverberating in her chest.

"I—"

" _Tell me_."

"Damnit, Cullen. You have duties to the Inquisition, not to me. You cannot afford to be distracted. Not now. I want nothing more than to stay with you, now and always. But I..." She trailed off, losing her words as his expression crumbled and his shoulders sagged.

"So that's it? That's all you have to say? That I should dedicate everything I am to the Inquisition? Fine," he released her and she stumbled backwards, catching herself and recovering her balance. The cloak fell through her fingers and she shook her head as he began to remove it.

"No, keep it," she dabbed at her eyes and he hesitated before nodding and stepping further into the room.

"Thank you, Warden-Commander. And I will not bother you again with my foolishness. Goodnight," he didn't bother to wait for her response before closing the door with more force than necessary. She stood for several moments in silence, listening to him move behind the door. At the sound of something heavy toppling onto the floor she turned to leave, no longer able to bear the pain she had caused them both. She trudged back down the stairs to her own room and sunk down onto the edge of her bed to bury her face in her hands.


	10. Chapter 10

"So now we march to Adamant?" Iron Bull leaned forward, a tankard clutched in his fist as Varric shrugged his shoulders. The Inquisitor and a handful of scouts had long ago left, sending nothing but word for her companions to follow. There was to be a battle and she urged her troops to prepare themselves accordingly. What that truly meant, Elena had no idea. But she would go for the sake of the Wardens.

She rose from her table, brushing off the reply from the dwarf, and stepped out into the frigid evening air. The plan was to set out not long after nightfall to arrive at Adamant simultaneously with the Inquisitor. Her heavy-lidded eyes scanned the darkness and she could hear the men gathering below her; loading pack horses and securing their supplies. It would be another long journey, but the prospect of a battle caused the air to buzz with anticipation and excitement.

It had been some time since Haven that any of them had witnessed more than a scuffle and she drew her robes tightly around herself to fight off the chill.

Unlike those men, Elena detested the idea of more bloodshed but she knew what had to be done. There would be no peaceful negotiations. Whatever had happened was _bad_ and the Grey Wardens were suffering greatly. Although there wasn't much that she, a Mage from Ferelden and a Grey Warden by happenstance, could do to help them. They would not recognize her authority in these foreign territories and she could not expect them to. Blackwall was a better candidate than she.

She circled around the tavern to climb the stairs to the battlements. This would likely be her final night spent in Skyhold and she wanted to be able to appreciate the magnificent fortress one final time from the best vantage point. While Elena did not intend to remain in the Western Approach as a rotting corpse, her purpose would soon be fulfilled and duty would take her back to Ferelden and Vigil's Keep. Or perhaps even to the Anderfels to deliver the news. Weisshaupt would want to know, she decided. They _always_ wanted to know.

Shadows moved around her as the wind stung her cheeks and caused the tip of her nose to burn. Elena drew her arms around her torso and continued her final lap around Skyhold as boots sounded on the stone behind her. She slowed and so did they. She should have drawn her staff to save herself the possibility of being thrown to her death, but she knew there was no threat and she stopped to lean against the ice cold stone. Her eyes searched the courtyard below, "You've been avoiding me," her words sounded so far away to her own ears and she felt him move to stand beside her.

"I had thought that was what you wanted," his voice was gruff and she reached up to brush some hair behind her ear as she turned to him.

"I thought so too. But I was wrong. I won't be returning to Skyhold after this," she searched his face in the dying light and watched his expression harden.

"I had assumed as much."

There was a moment of silence punctuated only by the wind whistling through the ramparts. Her fingers curled around the edges of her robes and she shivered. "I should go join the others. Will we be ready to march soon, Commander?" He responded with a curt nod and Elena made to move past him.

"Right. Well, I await your orders and for what it's worth, Cullen, I'm sorry for what I've done," Elena bowed her head in farewell and stepped around the Commander.

"Ride with me to Adamant," the sudden change in his tone took her by surprise and she looked over her shoulder. He was moving closer with desperation written all over his handsome face. "If these are the last moments we are to spend together before we part ways, then stay by my side. Give me that much, at least."

Elena opened her mouth and closed it, grinding her teeth together as she went to war with herself. Surely this could hurt no more than the pain she had already caused him. She could still see him shattering that night he had asked her to stay and it crippled her even now. She couldn't do that again and there was no guarantee either of them would even make it out of Adamant alive. She couldn't risk that kind of guilt and Elena found herself nodding.

His exhale was audible and she watched his shoulders fall forward with relief. A hand fell upon her shoulder and her knees nearly buckled as he placed a kiss upon her forehead. Just like that he was gone and she blinked, turning her head slowly to watch his retreating figure.

* * *

Adamant beckoned to them in the distance and all eyes fell upon the fortress every so often, sizing up their enemy. There would be little rest throughout the camp and conversations were quiet and somber. The fires burned low and many were extinguished long before the heavy darkness of night crept over them. Soldiers sat around in their tents, propped up and whispering in low voices to one another. The Inquisitor had joined them and Elena sat back as they worked through their tactics and strategies for overthrowing the fortress. The woman retold her own account of tracking Erimond across the Western Approach. Her tale was grim and she watched Stroud's expression shift as he interjected where appropriate.

Elena leaned against her staff, allowing her gaze to sweep back and forth between them all though she remained silent. It was going to be bloody; there was no doubt about that. But there was hope. Some of the Grey Wardens still had their wits about them, and could rebel to aid the Inquisition during their assault. It was a long shot, but that was all they had.

"Then tomorrow we move on Adamant. I will not let Erimond get away with this," that was all the dismissal they needed and the Inquisitor retreated to her own tent, followed closely by Blackwall. Rumors of their budding relationship had been surfacing across Skyhold but Elena had brushed them off. Their business was their own. If that brought them peace then she would be the last person to stand in their way, she understood that need all too well.

She gave Leliana and Cassandra a nod as she passed and slowed when she neared Cullen. As promised, she had not left his side since setting out from Skyhold. But that would have to end come dawn. "Ready?" She questioned and he sighed.

"As ready as we'll ever be. We have the advantage and the element of surprise. But they are holed up in there and we have no idea what waits beyond those walls," he looked towards the horizon and rubbed at the back of his neck. "You should get some rest. We've been traveling for days and who knows how long the fighting will last."

Elena nodded. "And so should you. You'll need to be well rested with a clear head," she reminded him. It felt strange to stand there before him and discuss the impending battle. She had never witnessed him in action before and the idea both frightened and thrilled her. What if something happened? What if he were injured? She would never be able to focus knowing that he was somewhere, driving his blade into the enemy and risking his own neck in the process.

"I plan to fight beside you tomorrow," Elena said suddenly. "To keep an eye on you. The other Mages will be falling back to aid our defenses and protect our soldiers but I prefer the front lines."

"I can't let you—"

"I'm not giving you a choice, Commander. I will not lose you to some abomination summoned by brainwashed Grey Wardens," she could feel the panic rising in her chest and her voice rose a decibel. "That night in Skyhold when I told you...when you said you... _gah_. I wanted to stay with you, Cullen. Oh Maker, how I wanted to! But I was afraid. I was afraid of what that would mean. I thought that by pushing you away it would make leaving you easier. But it hasn't done a damn thing and I am so sorry that I threw that away because I was foolish and selfish." The words tumbled like a waterfall from her lips and she took a deep breath.

" _Elena_..."

"I'm not finished. I had done such a good job at forgetting about you. All those years I convinced myself that my feelings for you had just been part of some juvenile phase and that in time I would learn to let go. But then I arrived at Skyhold and you were just... _there_ , after all that time, and they all came rushing back. I have spent every day since fighting them and I am so very tired. I can't...I don't want to fight them anymore, Cullen, and this may be the last chance I have to ever say this."

His hand had moved against the tent flap to duck inside and she watched the heavy flap fall back into place as he thought better of his decision. Her heart was deafening and she was certain he could hear every beat and every uneven breath as she tried to calm her nerves. Her hands trembled and he moved closer. His hands were in her hair and his lips were crashing down to meet hers with a longing she hadn't known either of them possessed. Her entire body burned with a painful yearning for his touch and she pressed herself against him.

Through his solid armor she could still feel the thrumming of his heart against his ribs and she wanted to peel the cool metal from him. She wanted to feel the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips and trace his jaw with her lips. "Stay with me," he murmured against her lips. The sweet sound caused goosebumps to rise along her arms and she nodded mutely, he didn't need to ask. She stumbled forward as he backed into his tent and abandoned her staff on the ground as they toppled onto his bedroll.

In a flurry of kisses and fumbling hands, they'd had both shed their armor in record time and the dry air warmed the exposed skin of her body. She dragged her hands through his hair and muffled her cries against his shoulder. The pressure of his hips between her thighs was pure ecstasy and every primal growl that passed over his lips sent a shiver rocketing down her spine to her toes.

She couldn't tell where she ended and he began. Sweet release had eventually found them both and she held him close as a violent tremor shook his body.

He hummed softly in satisfaction as his head settled against her bare chest and his breathing began to even out. His fingertip traced absently against her stomach and she closed her eyes as she placed a kiss against the top of his head.

"I don't want you out there tomorrow," his low voice was thick with sleep.

"You have no say. I will not stand back and watch you lay siege without me. I can't keep you safe from a distance," she ran her fingers through his sweat soaked hair.

He grumbled something incoherent and she chuckled softly. "Go to sleep, Commander. We can argue in the morning," Elena whispered. There was no response as his breaths grew shallow and even and his body rested effortlessly against hers. She followed soon after; no longer fearing what was to come.


	11. Chapter 11

There wasn't a single sign left behind to indicate that the Inquisition had once been camped just on the other side of the towering sand dunes. The massive force that had traveled from Skyhold was now evenly dispensed across the Western Approach, awaiting the signal from the Commander to begin their assault on Adamant. No one knew what to expect just beyond those walls and Elena watched sentinels walk the ramparts as the sun dipped low in the sky. They hoped the darkness would cover them for a time, at least allowing them the chance to advance close enough to get their archers and mages into place. The distraction would give the front lines the chance to advance and soldiers to scale the walls. Getting inside would be the most difficult part, Cullen had argued. Once they were inside, the push to Erimond and Clarel would be nearly effortless. But until those walls were breached, the Wardens and Venatori held the advantage.

Elena stood among the other mages, checking lyrium supplies and feeding on energy from one another. The energy was high and she could feel her body humming with anticipation; the staff vibrating softly beneath her fingers. Her sights were set on Cullen and she could feel his eyes sweeping to her from time to time. She would respond with a subtle nod of her head and he would look away, content for another ten minutes before he would throw another look her way as if to assure himself that she had not slipped away and disappeared into the vast nothingness that surrounded them.

As night fell, they began to move forward and Elena worked her way from her fellow mages and closer to him. The battering ram moved ahead, surrounded by soldiers to keep it safe and Elena fell just behind. Shouts began to ripple across the ramparts as archers rushed into place, raining arrows down upon them and Cullen gave the order to raise their shields. The arrows ricocheted in most places, but gaps between shields caused them to slip through and Elena watched as a handful of men dropped to the ground, doubled over and writhing in pain. Their comrades pressed on and she gathered her energy to hurl a crackling ball of lightning upwards. Adrenaline burned in her veins and she tossed the shield he had given her to the ground to focus on taking down the archers above them.

The sound of the door breaking down was lost as soldiers began to erect ladders, climbing swiftly up to the ramparts to strike down Grey Wardens, Venatori and demons alike. The Inquisitor and several others rushed forward on Cullen's command and he ushered them through the door. "Get in there and do what you do best," he shouted. "Our men are being slaughtered on the ramparts. There are too many demons up there, they can't get solid footing for the ladders. We'll hold down here," the Inquisitor nodded and Elena watched her crimson colored dragon scale armor disappear up the stairs.

She helped the men push forward into the fortress as more of them began to pour in and fill in the empty space. Several groups ran ahead to assist the Inquisitor in clearing out the ramparts, but Elena remained close to Cullen.

She marveled at the ease with which he swung his longsword. There was no hesitation and he cut an abomination down the middle as though he had been cutting through butter. He was certainly skilled and she erected a feeble barrier near to him on more than one occasion to keep them from sneaking up from behind. But each spell cast used up more energy and she could feel herself straining as she sent a burst of blinding white light towards an approaching group on her left.

Climbing a ladder to a balcony overlook, Elena used the new vantage point to shower her enemies with long twisting arms of electricity, shocking them and watching as they dropped to the ground, twitching and singed. Blood covered the ground and the walls and she dragged a hand across her forehead. How long had they been at this? She had lost track of time, but the torches were burning far lower than they had been at the start and the men were beginning to tire. Their cries of pain and surprise were louder now than they had been before she could feel desperation creeping in. There had been no sign of the Inquisitor and she looked to the sky as a dark shadow passed over them. Was that...? "Archdemon!" The shout echoed up from below as soldiers scrambled for cover, but the dragon passed over them, heading for something else: _The Inquisitor._

How could there be an Archdemon with no Blight? Elena blinked and looked down again. Someone had to help, someone had to−

"Watch out!" The ground shook as the Pride Demon shouldered through the entry way that was far too small, shattering a hole through the wall and sending stone flying in every direction. Unable to keep her balance as the balcony beneath her gave way, Elena tucked and rolled onto the ground. The landing was less than graceful and she gasped as the wind left her lungs and a white hot pain shot through her arm. _Broken_ , she knew before she even looked that it hung at a strange angle. Using her good arm and wincing in pain, she tried to scramble to her feet as the demon continued into the courtyard, snarling and growling.

Long twisted fingers reached for bodies as they scattered towards safety and Elena lifted her head as one victim was scooped into the demon's grasp. Abominations spilled in behind the demon, clawing and devouring the unfortunate souls that were unable to get away. Even from where she lay she could see the remnants of the Wardens among the abominations; patches of hair and alabaster skin were visible beneath the rot and decay. Their gnarled faces bore no resemblance to the men and women that had been sacrificed to the brutal blood magic and Elena got quickly to her feet, cradling her arm against her chest as she hurried to fall back.

She spotted Cullen, fully engaged with an abomination and he struck the demon down before moving back and beckoning for his men to follow. Their gazes met and she breathed a sigh of relief to know that he was safe−for now. His expression mirrored hers and she took another step forward. If they could fall back enough to regroup and corner the Pride Demon in the courtyard, they could regain control of the battle and turn the tables in their favor once more. She could already see the archers lining up alongside the mages and she felt pride swell in her chest as Cullen shouted more orders over the clash of swords.

He raised his arm to give the signal to fire the moment they were all clear and Elena picked up the pace. Her eyes were on him and she watched his expression change as his arm faltered. His lips were moving but his words of warning were lost on her as she froze. She heard the low rattling hiss of the abomination as it withdrew the dagger-like claw from her flesh as she hit her knees, no longer possessing the energy to remain standing. Her broken arm was now the least of her troubles as her hand moved to touch the spreading pool of blood gingerly. The whistling of an arrow sounded as it struck down the abomination behind her and she swallowed down a cry as it sliced at her one final time before crumpling into a heap behind her.

In that instant everything began to move in slow motion and she pressed her palm against her wound. She could feel where her robes had been torn along her back as warm blood stained the heavy green fabric. Cullen was moving towards her but she shook her head. "Fire!" She cried out, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to get her footing beneath her. The pain was too much to bear as she slipped in the blood soaked mud and used her good arm to brace herself. "Damn it, Cullen! Tell them to fucking fire!" She knew he could hear her and he stopped, his chest heaving and horror clouding his expression as she lifted her head and gave him a nod. "Do it. Trust me."

Her plan was poor and it guaranteed nothing but she watched him retreat and hesitate a moment longer as he lifted his arm. "Fire!" His voice broke on the word and the archers let loose their arrows. They whistled through the air and impaled the advancing abominations. Their shrieks were deafening and Elena fought the urge to cover her ears as arrows drove themselves into the mud around her, bouncing off of the barrier she had mustered the energy to erect. It drained what little energy she had left and she gasped when an eerie silence overtook the courtyard. The Pride Demon was gone and the abominations began to disintegrate.

It was over. Just like that. Thank the Maker! Whatever the Inquisitor had done, the timing had been nothing short of spectacular.

The remaining soldiers were doubled over with relief and exhaustion and Cullen abandoned them to race through the carnage. She heard him stumble through the mud and she wasted no time collapsing into his arms as he threw down his sword. "Elena! Maker, look at you. Stay with me. Don't close your eyes," she could hear the panic in his voice and she lifted her trembling blood coated hand to examine it once more.

"Cullen," she turned her head to search for him. He was little more than a silhouette and she shivered. "You're safe," she breathed, closing her eyes. He shook her and her head lulled from side to side. "Did we...win? Is it over?"

"It's over. It's over. Elena, open your eyes. Damn it. Don't do this to me," he pulled her to his chest. "Andraste's ass, are there no Healers around here?" He hissed as soldiers rushed around him, oblivious to the Commander in the aftermaths of the battle.

"I'm fine," she lied, her tongue felt thick in her mouth and she tried to swallow through the heavy lump in her throat. "Just hold me a moment longer. It's so...cold. Tired. So tired."

"Elena Amell, don't you die on me, you stupid woman. Stay with me. Stay with me..."


	12. Chapter 12

She had accepted her fate there in his arms. Although death had not been the ideal outcome, she had defied the odds long enough. For the first time in a long time, she had felt at peace and she wanted to tell him that.

He sounded worlds away, but she could hear him shouting her name and she could feel the jolts of pain as he shook her broken and bleeding body. _Stop_ , she wanted to tell him to let her go but her mouth would not move and her mind was thick with fog. Elena felt the splashes of tears that fell upon her cheeks and she wanted to reach out to ease his pain but her body would not oblige. So she remained paralyzed on the muddy ground. At least he wouldn't leave her there to rot, she told herself as the cold dark consumed her and she let her last bit of consciousness slip away.

There was no sound in death, no feeling, there was _nothing_. She pushed through the nothingness and moved blindly. What was she even searching for? She wasn't sure. She could barely think and nothing made sense. How had she ended up there? The abomination had struck her from behind and she touched her side. The skin was healed and smooth and she marveled at how light and nimble her body felt. She was no longer tired and her bones no longer ached from the cold or time spent traveling. She watched the pure untainted electricity fizzle at her fingertips and she examined her hands. She had unlimited use of the Arcane here and she looked up. This was incredible! There was no need to wake up and she was quite content to linger there in the dark expanse for an eternity. But something pulled her back to ground her and she felt her heart constrict and release.

 _Cullen_.

He was still back there somewhere, cleaning up the wreckage at Adamant and no doubt mourning over a woman that he hardly knew. Elena turned in a slow circle. She wanted to go back to him, but how? She could run in endless circles and not be any closer to him but she would not give up. She closed her eyes and screwed up her face, channeling her focus and energy into returning to him.

Her body began to ache and she was certain there was a druffalo on her chest, crushing her lungs and shattering her ribs. She gasped, clawing at her chest as her lungs expanded to fill with air. Her throat burned and she sputtered, coughing as sturdy hands held her writhing body in place. Dawn was breaking over the horizon and bathing Adamant in a sorrowful orange glow. Even the soft light was enough to blind her and she shrank away, trying to shield her face and crying out when her broken arm cracked in protest. " _Fuck!"_

"Well at least we know she's still alive," there was grim humor in Dorian's voice and Elena let him gently wrestle her arm back down to her side.

"What did I miss?" She rasped, blinking slowly as her muscles began to relax and the spasms began to slow. There were no more demons, no more abominations and she could see the remaining Grey Wardens gathering in the courtyard. The Inquisitor stood among them, the rising sun glinting against her armor and granting her the ethereal air many believed she already possessed. Sent from Andraste, indeed. Elena believed that now and she pushed a heavy exhale out through her nose.

"Oh, not much. Took a stroll through the Fade to face a Nightmare working with Corypheus. Warden Stroud...stayed behind," Dorian spoke in a low voice as he helped her into a sitting position, careful to mind the crude bandage that had been wrapped around her midsection.

"Did you...?"

"Vivienne," he clarified and she nodded.

"Right. Remind me to thank her later," she grunted as she pressed her palm against her side. "My arm is ruined," she mused aloud. That was something she would deal with later, but for now, her priorities were elsewhere and she gripped Dorian by the arm as she got to her feet. She used the man as a crutch as they hobbled across the courtyard to where the Inquisitor stood.

"Ah, you're awake," the woman commented, standing aside to allow Elena to stand near her.

"Good to see you alive too," the mage mumbled, wincing as she straightened up and surveyed the group before them. "Dorian briefly told me what happened. Did you truly _walk_ through the Fade?"

"For the second time. Though this time I was actually aware of what was happening. I assume he told you about Stroud?" She cast a sideways glance to Varric and the strapping man beside him and Elena arched an eyebrow.

"He did. I am very sorry for the loss, Inquisitor," she bowed her head in sincerity and the woman nodded.

Varric rubbed at his face and shook his head as the other man turned away from him and joined the Inquisitor. "While you deliberate on what to do with the Wardens, I'll take the news to Weisshaupt. They'll want to know what happened. Stroud's sacrifice should be recognized."

The Inquisitor nodded and extended her hand towards him as Elena interjected, "I intended to go to Weisshaupt on behalf of the Wardens. It might mean more coming from one," she reasoned.

The man blinked, caught off guard by the battered woman and his eyes narrowed. "Stroud's death was my doing. I will be the one to go on _his_ behalf."

"Hawke, maybe she has a point..." Varric appeared beside him, looking up at the Champion with a small shrug and Elena nearly hit the ground once more. She leaned on Dorian and he supported her weight without objection as she broke through the haze to piece together the puzzle. Hawke? She _knew_ that name.

"You aren't going _anywhere_ ," the booming voice caused her head to snap up and she felt her heart flutter. _Cullen!_ Dorian stepped aside as if on command as the Commander took his place, his blood splattered armor shining like a beacon in the early morning light. His arm was sturdy around her waist and she leaned into him, inhaling his scent as her head fell easily against his chest. She didn't care who was watching. The Maker himself could have been standing there in all of his holy glory and Elena wouldn't have given a damn.

"But I should at least go to−"

"No! Let Hawke go. You're in no condition to travel on your own and you would just slow him down," he left no room for argument and she swallowed hard, frowning as she opened her eyes. This argument would not be won that day, at least not in her current state and she rolled her eyes before begrudgingly extending her hand towards Hawke.

"Tell them I will not be far behind once I have recovered fully. For the time being, the Wardens will be in the hands of the Inquisition."

Hawke accepted and nodded, giving her hand a brief shake before pulling away and placing a hand on Varric's shoulder. "Take care of Varric for me, Inquisitor," his attention shifted and Elena cleared her throat to interrupt once more.

"Perhaps I'll meet you at Weisshaupt. _Cousin_ ," Elena watched the surprise, uncertainty and smirk of realization cross his face as he nodded once in acknowledgement.

"Thank you, Ser Hawke," the Inquisitor bowed her head, easily demanding control of the conversation as Hawke took his leave. Varric excused himself with the easy lie of having something to tend to and the Inquisitor rounded on Elena.

"You know one another?"

"Not really. But I know enough about him to know that we're related. I've never met Leandra or her children but I knew _of_ them. I never realized he was the Champion of Kirkwall too," she felt Cullen adjust his hold on her and she put her weight against his solid chest.

"Inquisitor, if you don't mind, I would like to take Elena back to Skyhold as soon as possible with the other wounded," Cullen inclined his head and the Inquisitor eyed them for a moment before nodding.

"Of course," she agreed. "We will see you back at Skyhold, Commander."


	13. Chapter 13

Her broken arm had been set and she longed to scratch beneath the tight bindings that held her limb in place. It was hot and bothersome, but she knew he would have her head if she chose to mess with them. Her wound had been cleaned and stitched, though the skin was still tender to the touch and caused her constant discomfort. She was lucky that nothing had been punctured; the Healer had chided her as though she had willingly thrown herself onto the abomination. The good news was that she would make a full recovery, save for the limited range of her arm once it healed. That news pleased Cullen though it did little to lessen his worry.

He had granted himself a temporary leave to dedicate his time to tending to Elena despite her constant reassurance that she would be just fine. He had convinced himself that she would keel over at any given moment and every hiss of pain sent him into a frenzy that usually lasted for a good half hour or more. She supposed it was endearing to know that he cared so much, but his constant attention made her feel like a nuisance more often than not. She was wounded, not on her death bed. At least, not anymore.

She sat now in the garden, watching a butterfly investigate the newest addition to the flowerbed. It landed for a moment on a fat green stem before finding a new perch on a silky yellow petal. This was the most excitement she saw now that she was all but bed ridden and it made her feel like nothing more than an invalid. She itched to be back in action, or at least doing _something_ that made a difference. She had come to help and she had yet to do so. The Inquisitor was still sitting on the fate of the Wardens and her stomach churned at the very thought of the outcome. The woman could destroy them in an instant, or she could grant them the opportunity to redeem themselves. Would she, after what they had done? It was all too unpredictable for her liking.

Elena exhaled and rubbed at the back of her neck with her good hand, looking up as someone settled onto the bench beside her. "You should be in bed," she could feel his disapproving stare and she rolled her eyes.

"Cullen, I am not as fragile as you seem to think. I needed some air. I hadn't realized I wasn't allowed to take a little walk," she responded shortly, looking away from him and following the path of the butterfly as it took flight once more, abandoning the flower bush altogether. _So much for that_ , she thought bitterly. It drifted lazily up towards the Heavens and out of sight, giving her nothing else to focus her attention on.

"Of course you're allowed to take a walk. But what if something happened to you? What if you tripped and fell?"

"It would not be the first time I've tripped and fallen over my own two feet. I would be fine. I don't understand why you're so−"

"Because I held you in my arms and watched you die!" The pain and sorrow in his voice shattered her heart into a thousand pieces and she looked away out of shame. "So would it be too much to ask for you to just humor me for a while longer?" He was looking away now too, his expression twisted in frustration and she reached over to place her hand on his thigh.

"I know. I'm sorry. I just...I will be more careful. I promise," it was the least she could do and she swallowed hard as she looked at the flowers again.

"I told you that I wouldn't lose you again and I almost did. I will not put you in harm's way again, under any circumstance. I have spent years cursing myself for not telling you how I felt when I had the chance. But now you're here and Maker be damned, I will not let you go. If you truly wish to travel to Weisshaupt, I will go with you."

"And what about the Inquisition? You cannot just abandon−"

"Damn the Inquisition!" His booming voice echoed throughout the garden and Elena watched a pack of birds take flight in surprise and fear at the outburst. Their wings fluttered frantically and she turned her head slowly to face him, curling her fingers into a fist against his thigh. She opened her mouth to protest before thinking twice and pressing her lips together to keep the words from coming out. She needed an extra moment to compose herself and work through her response.

He would follow her to Weisshaupt? She could not−she _would_ _not_ −let him. His place was here, in Skyhold, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The bench was hard and unforgiving beneath her and she ran her tongue thoughtfully across her bottom lip. Her options were few, but she knew what she had to do.

"Then I guess you leave me no choice but to remain here in Skyhold," Elena spoke slowly, forcing herself to maintain eye contact with him as he turned his head to look at her.

"You would do that?" The disbelief caused her to chuckle softly and she nodded. "Are you certain?"

"Cullen Stanton Rutherford, there is nowhere else in Thedas I would rather be than by your side. It only took me a Blight, the fall of the Circle and near death to realize that," she shrugged her good shoulder as his spine straightened and his expression brightened.

"You will be a valuable asset to the Inquisition," he said, adopting the formality and professionalism she had witnessed him exhibit on many occasions and he cleared his throat. His lopsided grin was still visible as he turned away from her to stand, causing her hand to fall away from his leg and land squarely on the cold stone bench. Without warning he leaned down to scoop her into his arms, causing a squeal of protest to rise and fall over her lips.

"Cullen!"

"And when all is said and done, I tend to do things properly," he announced as he cradled her to his chest. Tucking her arm against her side and protecting it against his chest, she tilted her chin to meet his burning gaze. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered helplessly and her mouth went dry. He looked so _hungry_ and she tried to silence the squirming anticipation in her gut. To know that she alone fueled that look was enough to send her over the edge and she bit down on her bottom lip.

"Such as?"

"Such as locking you away in matrimony to avoid any further interruptions. The next Archdemon will have to go through me first," he let out a deep hearty chuckle and she felt it reverberating in his chest as her cheeks flushed. _Matrimony?!_ Elena could have soared clear to the sky had he not been holding her firmly against him. Even though he began to cross the garden to return to her room, his movements never jarred her and she swallowed nervously.

"And what do you intend to do in the meantime, Commander?"

There was a brief pause and she could feel his eyes on her as he nudged the door open with his feet and stepped inside. "Why, all of the _improper_ things, of course."


End file.
